Last of Days
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: We're gonna survive this, right? George holds on - but for how much longer? S5 finale. No pairings, just George. Oneshot.


**A/n**: I've been wanting to write something related to the finale for little while now. I was rewatching season 1 today and George's line, "We're going to survive this, right?" struck me and this sort of tumbled out. It mostly works backwards timeline-wise and it is meant to be fairly vague and disjointed. This refers to George's canon ships, but isn't really pairing-specific. Also unbetaed b/c it's late and I'm lazy. ;) Therefore mistakes are mine. Lastly, the title "Last of Days" is the same title as a song by A Fine Frenzy. The song doesn't go with this or anything, I just liked the title. Reviews are love. Enjoy!

* * *

_We're gonna survive this, right?_

_

* * *

_

"Oh… oh… seven. Double… oh…" Meredith stops and so does her heart. It can't be right, it can't be real. But she looks at his eyes and she _really_ looks this time. And she knows. "Oh God!"

His eyelids slide shut as the drugs take effect and she runs from the room.

* * *

He checks his watch and shifts from foot to foot. He's been waiting for the us for quite some time now and silently curses that public transit is so unreliable. He looks up as a pretty girl with coppery hair approaches, bobbing slightly to the music playing on her pink headphones. He thinks she has a pleasant face and when she catches him looking, he offers her a wide smile and turns to look for the coming bus.

He doesn't notice how the girl promptly looks away nor does she return his smile. She turns her attention to her mp3 player and cranks the volume as her favorite song comes on.

It happens very quickly, yet strangely in slow motion.

A bus comes barreling down the road, it's display showing it's out of service. The pretty girl with the coppery hair and the pink earphones spots her favorite coffee shop across the street and decides to zip across for a quick coffee before returning to catch her bus. She steps off the curb.

He calls out to her when he sees her going and the bus not stopping. There's no hesitation, not a second thought. He jumps out in front of her and the bus, pushing her with all his body weight so she goes flying out of the way.

Impact.

* * *

_I believe we survive, George. I believe that believing we survive… is what makes us survive.

* * *

_

"You're really going to do it?" Owen asks.

His eyes are fixed on the wet pavement below his feet. He nods slowly.

Owen sighs a little bit and leans back on the metal bench. "It's going to be hard. Exceptionally hard."

He nods.

"It's not going to be like anything you've experienced here." Owen continues. "It's… gritty and rushed, it's tragic and horrifying, it's difficult and…" Owen sighs. "I just hope you understand what you're getting into."

He nods again and then whispers, "I've got to make a difference."

This time it's Owen who nods. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the rain coming down lightly around them.

Eventually, Owen looks right at him and he meets the haunted look in the other man's eyes. "Then I pray, George… I _pray_ with all my soul that you never have to go through the same thing I went through."

* * *

He's going to make a real difference. Not like here where everyone seems to be able to shine brighter than him. He's always there, always dependable but he's never able to stand out, no matter how hard he tries. He used to be able to and can't remember how he did it. He's pretty sure the turning point was when he failed his exam. He was already losing his marriage, in love with someone else, confused and lost. He failed and had to stay as an intern while his friends moved ahead of him. They kept walking farther ahead while he stayed back, trying and failing to play catch-up.

So while he listens to the soldier speak, he hears the words resonating inside him. He understands what he should do. He understands, finally, how to move forward again.

* * *

_So you're saying maybe someday?_

_Yeah. Yeah I'm saying maybe someday.

* * *

_

He sits on the end of the bed and stares into the darkness all around him. The crapartment is completely quiet and the only thing he can hear is his own breathing and some sirens wailing somewhere outside in the distance. His eyes are prickling and he can't seem to move.

How he get here? How'd he get to this point, where he's sitting alone on the bed in the dark and no one even seems to notice or care? He hopes they still do. Sometimes he justifies things for them. They're busy, they're getting married, they're moving on, they're moving up.

He's just not moving.

* * *

_I helped you study. I helped decorate your stupid locker. I… I… you didn't… You don't even see it. You don't see anything!

* * *

_

He didn't know she liked him. Alright, that wasn't entirely true. There were some moments when he'd see her steal a glance his way and he'd smile and she'd blush. So maybe he had a vague, fleeting thought here or there that maybe she was developing feelings for him.

But he wasn't ready. He was trying so hard to catch up to his other friends, he couldn't take notice. He was dealing with the fall-out of a rough year, he didn't want to have to worry about another failed romance. He just wanted to live complication free for a little while. Was that too much to ask? He just wanted a friend. Something platonic and safe. Just for now, just for _right now_.

So they got the crapartment, and he enjoyed having her as friend. He enjoyed it very much. They ate mac and cheese and she helped him study and he liked living complication free, in that one tiny part of his life.

He could see the potential in them being a couple, maybe, down the road, when he wasn't an intern anymore and he'd caught up to his friends.

The problem was that she couldn't wait. And that made it complicated.

* * *

He couldn't see through all the mess he'd created. It was a chain reaction that he didn't see coming. He couldn't trace back to when it first started.

It was complicated and it hurt. Why did it always have to be complicated?

So marrying Callie was a bad way to grieve for his dad. And sleeping with Izzie was a bad way to get out of marriage to Callie. Sleeping with Meredith knowing full well she didn't feel the same way was beyond a bad decision. And falling in love with all of them at the wrong times only made things worse. Giving Izzie up without a fight shouldn't have happened. Rushing Callie into a Vegas wedding shouldn't have happened. Going for Meredith at all shouldn't have happened.

His dad dying shouldn't have happened.

* * *

He couldn't sleep. They'd had a rough few months with little sleep as it was so it was doubly frustrating to have one of those unexplainable restless nights where his body wouldn't get comfortable and his mind wouldn't shut off. Finally he frustratedly threw off the covers and padded downstairs to the kitchen, thinking that perhaps one of Izzie's muffins would help him sleep.

The kitchen light was already on when he arrived. He found Meredith leaning on the counter with a bowl of ice cream. She said nothing but acknowledge him with a small smile. He smiled back and got himself a towering glass of milk to go with one of Izzie's muffins. He settled on the stool beside Meredith.

They shared a companionable silence for a solid ten to fifteen minutes before Izzie arrived, shuffling blearily in her, her hair a wild mess shoved hastily in a clip. She didn't bother with a bowl and simply grabbed a spoon and the entire ice cream container. She took the stool on George's other side.

They stayed like that until close to three when one by one they left and headed back to bed. Each slept restfully after that for a few hours until their alarm clocks went off. No one talked about it. No words were needed. They knew that whatever had been bothering each of them, had melted away as they sat comfortably on Meredith's old stools.

The fourth time it happened, he realized how lucky he was to have Meredith and Izzie as his friends.

* * *

_This is so cool. I mean, can you believe it? Tomorrow, we're gonna be surgeons.

* * *

_

He was wearing brand new blue scrubs. He'd worked hard for this. He was the only one of his family so far to go to college. His parents thought that him being a doctor was equivalent to being a superhero.

He breathed deep and had a hard time wiping the grin off his face as he reported in early on his first day as an intern at Seattle Grace.

"And who're you?"

"I'm George O'Malley."

* * *

_Who's going to hold us together if you're not here? You're the glue. You're George.

* * *

_

He stood a little straighter in the clean, pressed uniform. He didn't know where he'd gotten the uniform from, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He had a hard time remembering things, yet knew he needed to walk forward. He couldn't decide if this was a dream or not, which made him think it must be a dream after all, because dreams were usually vague and confusing like that.

As he walked down the abnormally empty, extra bright and white hallway, he could catch glimpses of things in the doorways that led to rooms. He saw flashes of things he remembered. His mind told him what he saw behind the doors were memories and he decided this had to be what people meant when they said they saw their life flash before their eyes.

At the end of the hall was the elevator, shining silver that seemed too stark against all the bright white. He almost wondered why there seemed to be no one else here but like any strange dream, his mind told him this was normal. He waited for the elevator to come.

When the doors opened, his eyes took in the sight of Izzie in the pink prom dress. The dress she'd chosen for the love of her life, Denny. The dress she'd spent hours wearing as she lay on the bathroom floor mourning his death. The dress she wore now.

She smiled at him and he smiled back. He was so happy and relieved to see her…

_Come with me_. He thought.

Her smile faltered. _I want to. I can't._

He held out his hand. He somehow knew that if she grabbed his hand, they would go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know why. They were just supposed to.

She lifted her hand but didn't take a step forward.

_I want to. I can't._

He could hear memories splashing and making noise in the rooms down the hall. He couldn't discern his from hers. Some were the same. He thought he smelt muffins or saw a bus and felt a kiss on his lips, but then it was gone, and the confusion was replaced with certainty.

_Come with me._

She stretched just a little farther and they stared deep in each other's eyes. No words were needed. No words were ever needed.

_I believe that believing we survive…_

Her fingertips tickled the palm of his hand.

_…is what makes us survive.

* * *

_

"Please hold on, George." Meredith pleaded, clutching his bruised hand and cursing herself for not understanding sooner. "Stay with us George, please…"

The monitor showed only a flat line and the noise was one continuous beep.

* * *

_We're gonna survive this, right?_

_No. _He thought. _Not this time._

**-end-

* * *

**

**A/n:** I personally think George is going to die and Izzie's going to live, but I left the ending of this open-ended. Thanks for reading! Reviews are like oxygen. :)


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